Tag Archives: joy

Discover ‘Under The Autumn Moon’: A Steamy Romance Novel

Romance Novel Now Available

When bestselling author Lexi Maxwell meets legendary guitarist Paddy May in a quiet London bookstore, she doesn’t expect her teenage crush to be soft-spoken, holding her latest book and extending his left hand to shake, knowing she doesn’t have a right.

That single, deliberate touch sparks more than just a connection. It awakens something electric. What begins as a morning coffee becomes a day-long walk, a moonlit dance, and a night of aching closeness neither of them wants to end.

Lexi lives a life of word and solitude- famous for her novels, but not her face. Paddy has been running from fame’s glare, numbing himself with noise and excess. But in Lexi’s presence, he finds something he thought he’d lost- desire, purpose and maybe even a little magic.

To stay together, they’ll have to fight for something rare and sacred: a love powerful enough to burn through fame, grief and the ghosts of the past. A love written in the stars- and sealed Under The Autumn Moon.

Award-winning poet, essayist and author Betheny Lynn Reid has written a lyrical, mystical, sometimes steamy, story that reminds us to always take the first step toward love.

Now Available online or ask your local bookstore.

Celebrating Love

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There’s something magical about being married to your best friend more than half your life.

It isn’t just the shared memories and experiences, it’s the liking, loving and respecting someone that cuts a groove of grounding, stability, trust and then the freedom to explore, change and become a fuller person in this world.

I know I’m very fortunate.

Haiku for Harris

Kamala so strong

joyous and focused for us

we must elect her.

~~~

Nation not party

consequences most high

there’s only one choice.

~~~

Let us turn the page

we all have more in common

Let’s build on that joy.

~~~

She wants solution

she wants to bring back our joy

focus on the good.

Growing Family

Little feet

padding quickly on the wooden floor

from his room

to ours

in the middle of the night

standing by my bed

waiting.

I reach down with one hand

and sweep my toddler son

into the middle of our bed.

He lays flat on his back

placing one hand on his dad

and one hand on me.

deep sigh

then falls back asleep.

Bigger feet

lumbering across the wooden floor

from his room

to the kitchen

early in the morning.

Refrigerator door opens

he stands

grazing

on leftovers dipped in ranch dressing he leaves in little bowls

just for this purpose.

Pops a can of flavored water

then back to his room.

Grown feet

softly walking from his childhood room

to the kitchen

where he stands

boils water

for morning tea.

He feeds our cats

whom he misses when he not here.

Looks at his work emails

plays news podcasts.

We are still his home

but he has a new home too

with his beloved

who is our new beloved too.

28 enero 2022

I Would Color This Winter Wind

The birds knew it just before I did.

They had been singing and flying tree to tree

following me on my morning walk.

The air was very still.

It was quiet except for the serenade of the birds…and squirrels.

Then silence.

They all landed on trees or scurried into bushes.

I stopped.

Then we were all blasted with the north wind.

This is how winter arrives in north Texas.

If I could color this wind

it would be a mix of white white white

and fresh sea blue.

It would be a swirl of these colors

rolling across the sky

leaving a shivering trail.

Nothing moves after it passes.

The grass, still green,

is shocked.

Not a blade bends.

This is when I bundle up and stay outside.

My neighbors know my blue ankle length Arctic coat

With boots, ski pants, hat, sweater and gloves.

I’m a pudgy figure waddling around our empty streets.

I belong outside.

I always have.

Mostly I like it warm,

just wearing shorts and a t-shirt.

But I’ve found a way to be in cold weather.

A kind of winter solidarity with the animals

who have no choice

other than to seek shelter and warmth

snuggled under leaves

and in bushes and nests.

I talk to them as I walk around.

I don’t see them

but I know they are there.

They know I’ll keep pouring water over the ice in the bird bath

and saucers I’ve set out for them.

I imagine them peering out at me.

I think they are thanking me.

I know I am them.